The late summer mushroom explosion has faded and been replaced by the turtle migration. Hardly a week goes by without seeing one trying to cross the road. And when they do why do they get about half way out and decide to rest? I knew peeling off onto the side of the road for wildflowers on 53 was a bit dangerous, but last week when I found myself stopping in the middle of the intersection at War Hill to rescue a turtle, I did wonder if this was getting out of hand. From my experience they respond one of two ways to the so called rescue. They either clamp down into their shell or they gear up those stumpy little legs and whirl like helicopters as they are transported across the asphalt. Years ago before the road to the lake house was paved I came across a huge snapper...over 12 inches long. He looked heavy so I thought I might be able to scoot him on across. He reared back his neck, hissing and snapping and I almost had a heart attack. I let him be. An important lesson to learn about a lot more than turtles.
An Interruption
A boy had stopped his car I hope I told him with a look
To save a turtle in the road; As I passed by,
I was not far How I was glad he'd stopped me there,
Behind, and slowed, And what I felt for both
And stopped to watch as he began Of them, something I took
To shoo it off into the undergrowth-- To be a kind of love,
And of a troubled thought
This wild reminder of an ancient past, I had, for man,
Lumbering to some Late Triassic bog, Of how we ought
Till it was just a rustle in the grass, To let life go on where
Till it was gone. And when it can.
Robert S. Foote
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